


Conditional Indulgance

by PriestGuts



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Coping Mechanisms, Gen, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stuffing, binge eating, feederism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 12:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13295205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PriestGuts/pseuds/PriestGuts
Summary: Sometimes you just need a little bit of comforting in any form you can get it.A gift inspired by a certain skin.





	Conditional Indulgance

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I have never once played overwatch, know absolutely jack (( ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ))all about the universe and this is just a gift. Please forgive me any mischaracterizations.

It’s been a while since he was made to just...sit down and relax. He hated having time to think. He hated not moving. Sure he was getting on in years, but he wasn’t some old man yet. However, he was feeling older in other ways. Like his irritation that some of his younger guests had left his porch a mess and had torn up his lawn with their rabble rousing. He’d just mowed that.

Surprisingly though, they’d left much more food for leftovers than he’d anticipated. Didn’t kids these days have insatiable appetites? Apparently not.

He turned on the TV to fill the silence while he tidied up. It didn’t take too long, but by the time he was done, he was feeling a bit peckish. He hadn’t had a chance to eat much while manning the grill. Better late than never at least.

Now that he was sitting down, he could actually appreciate that the younger visitors hadn’t eaten as much as he’d expected. It left him with some of the good stuff. Couple steaks, medium rare of course because any more would just be ruining a perfectly good piece of meat, few brats and even a couple burgers. He didn’t remember who’d brought potato salad, but he wasn’t going to complain about them leaving it behind. With a plate made, and a whiskey poured, he sat himself down in front of the TV to enjoy his meal in piece. 

The problem with eating in front of a TV, or with any distraction, is that you often times don’t even realize how much you’ve eaten until you hear the clink of a fork and knife on an empty plate. The noise started him, having not expected it so soon. Shame. He had quite been enjoying himself for once. 

Even with the TV on, it felt just a little too quiet in the house alone without some extra noise. He didn’t particularly like the quiet. And really...what could it hurt to get another plate? Nothing, that’s what.

And plate after plate, bite after bite, that’s what he kept telling himself. Just one more couldn’t hurt. Even when his stomach started to feel tight and cramp from the amassed weight of food inside him, he kept telling himself that just one more couldn’t hurt. There was an excess and it would just go to waste if he didn’t eat it. It was a different sensation however that brought him out of his daze.

Ah, that’d be the whiskey finally affecting him. A tenting in his shorts left him nearly as flushed as the warmth of the food settled low in his stomach. Well shit, why not? Downing the rest of the whiskey like a shot just for that little extra push, he moved to get comfortable on the couch. Well..more comfortable. 

He kicked off his sandals and socks to prop one leg up on the soft cushions, using it as leverage to arch his hips enough to undo the button and zipper of his shorts past the large swell of his stomach. He hardly had to use any pressure to get the button to pop open and he out a deep sigh of relief that the lessened pressure brought him, along with a dizzying surge of arousal.

There was definitely no going back now.

Sliding a hand up his thigh, he let his head drop back to lay against the armrest of the couch. He couldn’t handle much teasing right now. Between the pressure in his stomach causing cramps in the most delectable way and the whiskey warming his entire body, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

As much as he’d love a leisurely wank, he needed it now.

Wrapping his hand around himself, he cocked his hips forward, growling with the effort that it took to keep him in a position where he could comfortably jerk himself off. Sitting up wouldn’t work. He’d eaten far too much and his stomach was swollen enough to be in the way of a position like that. So here he was, flat on his back with his hips rocking into his own moving hand. Weak and vulnerable, but damn did it feel good. 

His fingers slid over the head to tease just a little more before he went back to jerking, eyes slipping closed the closer he got. He gritted his teeth, growling loudly through them before giving in and just letting himself moan, low in his chest in a combined gravelly and breathy sound. 

The sounds grew in pitch as his muscle strained to keep the good position. Soon he was unable to stop himself from bucking his hips forward, gritting his teeth once again. He could feel his abdominal muscles tightening in an all too familiar sensation. This, however, only caused his stomach to cramp more, but not in an unpleasant way. With a desperate shout as the sudden increased pressure, his back arched, spilling himself over his hand, seeing white as he finished himself off.

The room was quiet for a while, save for the news on the TV and his laboured panting. This time the quiet didn’t bother him as much.


End file.
